


Like the Chorus to the Verse

by Fudgyokra



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Best Friends, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Everyone Thinks They're Together, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Humor, M/M, Multi, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Relationship(s), Slice of Life, Teen Romance, Teenagers, Wedding Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-26 18:33:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14408034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: With Dick and Barbara’s wedding coming up fast, everyone else is left scrambling to prepare. Colin’s mission: Find a plus-one before time runs out.Alternately: Life is weird when your best friend matches with your dad on OKCupid.





	Like the Chorus to the Verse

**Author's Note:**

> At some point last year, I made a post on my Tumblr that went something like this: Imagine the song Stacy’s Mom but with Damian as Stacy. Disregarding all the smaller details, that’s basically how the idea for this fic came along. If you’re someone who hasn’t heard the Uncle Izzy rendition of said song, you should head to Youtube and check out “Stacy’s Dad.” A true classic, I must say.
> 
> There are so many mentioned relationships in this but, to be clear, this is a JonDami fic. The only reason I tagged DickBabs is because they’re the ones getting married, but they’re not in this fic very often so turn back if you expected a lot of them, lol. Sorry! I didn’t tag any of the other pairings because they’re all only there for a second.
> 
> While I Wrote:
> 
> Stacy’s Mom (of course) – Fountains of Wayne  
> Stacy’s Dad (of course) – Uncle Izzy  
> First Date – Blink-182  
> Two Princes – Spin Doctors  
> All the Small Things – Blink-182  
> Slide – Goo Goo Dolls  
> Semi-Charmed Life – Third Eye Blind  
> Drive – Incubus  
> Shake It – Metro Station  
> My Love – Justin Timberlake

“The wedding is so close and I _still_ don’t have a plus-one,” Colin complains from where he sits at the edge of Damian’s bed. Beside him is Jon, playing something on an old Gameboy that must have belonged to Conner, and across the room at his computer is Damian himself. When no response comes from either of them, Colin groans loudly and dramatically.

“For the last time, we are attending as a group,” Damian finally replies, but he’s still ticking away at his keyboard—hadn’t even turned around to look at him.

Colin scoffs, which at least gets Jon to lay a sympathetic hand on his shoulder for a few seconds before he returns to his game. “Yeah, right. Like I’m going to third-wheel at a wedding.”

“Jon and I are not dating,” Damian grumbles, “ergo the term ‘third-wheeling’ does not apply. It is just three friends hanging out. That is _all._ ”

Before Colin can ground out a moody retort to that, Stephanie knocks on the open bedroom door and interrupts. “We’re leaving, squirts.”

“Thank you, Steph,” Jon answers sweetly as he tucks his console into the pocket of his jeans and animatedly shoves Colin off the bed, toward the door. “Let’s go, Dami!”

Although there’s no verbal response, Damian follows as requested until the four of them are piling into Tim’s car. Tim doesn’t actually arrive until approximately three minutes later, and when he does he’s got a travel mug in his hand, his hair tied back, and a big pair of sunglasses on his face. He looks, for all intents and purposes, like a hungover sleaze, but they all know it’s just the product of another all-nighter. Probably, Dick had talked his ear off about how excited he was to finally tie the knot and wouldn’t let him sleep because of it.

“You’re wearing _sweatpants,_ ” Damian points out with a judgmental wrinkle of his nose.

“Um, yeah. So?” Tim rolls his eyes, slides into the driver’s seat, and transfers his coffee to Steph, who leans over the console to kiss him on the cheek. It’s for luck, Jon always says. It’s because they’re disgusting, Damian always argues. Colin couldn’t care less.

They all make it to the tux place without losing a wheel or a driver, so that meant the journey was successful.

Jason is already there waiting for them, leaning against his motorcycle with a half-smoked cigarette hanging from his mouth. When he sees them, he drops it and grounds it out on the asphalt with his boot. “Sweatpants, Timmy?” he says by way of greeting. Tim grunts at him and takes a long drink from his mug.

“Sweatpants,” Damian agrees, irritated.

The bell dings above their heads when they enter the building.

Every alteration made turned out blessedly perfect. Steph watches Tim spin around in the mirror for the millionth time, gushing over how nice he looked—how nice they looked _together,_ how they _matched._ Damian can’t tell if she’s stoned again or if she’s that enthused organically.

When Tim hooks an arm around her waist and drags her in for a kiss, Damian directs his attention to his own mirror, crowded at either edge by the forms of his grinning friends. “There are plenty of mirrors in here,” he points out, despite the fact he’s not especially bothered.

“We look so fancy,” Jon says. His grin is bright and cheery, as always, and it looks rather charming in context with his manner of dress, not that Damian would admit it.

“They’re all right,” he concedes. “I’ve worn better, but Grayson insisted on this place. Apparently, he is friends with the owner.”

“Can you imagine how beautiful Barbara is going to look?” Jon continues, practically swooning.

Colin pulls away, tugs at his tie with a grimace. “Meanwhile, we get the monkey suits.”

“No one is stopping you from wearing a dress, Colin,” Damian says. “But it must be purple, so I would strongly advise against it.”

“Not your color,” Jon informs him, leaning across the expanse of Damian’s back with his hand on the boy’s shoulder. He’s still smiling, which hurts Colin’s face just by looking, but he still smiles back until he can’t anymore. It’s hard not to smile at Jon; even Damian does.

When the bell dings to signal another entry to the shop, the three of them twist around to look. They can hear Jason offer an emphatic, “Finally!” from across the carpeted room before they actually see him cross the expanse to throw his arms around Kori and Roy. They both press a kiss to either of his cheeks, and then they all have intimate hands on one another’s hips and, god, Damian can’t wait for this wedding to be over. Everybody’s more lovey-dovey than usual and it kind of gives him heartburn.

He’s happy for Dick—he really is. The fact that he and Barbara were trading vows after all these years was a welcome change to the dull drone of everyday life, and he’s grateful for how happy it makes their father. How wonderful it was to see him smile again. Mid-life crises were not kind, but he supposes there were worse remedies than seeing someone you love getting married.

But, still. _Ugh._

“Everyone has a date except me,” Colin gripes, breaking Damian from his thoughts. “Jason has _two._ You think he’ll share one of them for a night?”

Ignoring him, Damian crosses the room and tugs annoyedly at Tim’s cuff to get him to stop sucking face for two damn seconds.

“What is it, brat?” Tim looks down at him, and now that his sunglasses are off, Damian can see the purple bags beneath his eyes.

“Give me Father’s credit card so I can purchase all of this and leave. I am not waiting for Jason’s insipid dates. Just because they’re incapable of being on time doesn’t mean—”

Jason’s sudden bark of laughter cuts right into the sentiment, and when Damian looks over his shoulder he sees Colin and Jon accosting them. It occurs to him that Colin might have actually _asked_ to borrow either Kori or Roy, and the thought makes Damian sigh so deeply he can feel it in his bones. _Stupid._

The boys approach him soon after that, and Colin’s got his arms crossed petulantly across his chest, so, yeah, Damian’s hypothesis was correct. It wasn’t often anything else.

“I’m never going to find a plus-one,” he says.

“Try a dating app,” Tim says boredly, fishing for Bruce’s card and handing it to Damian.

“A dating app?” Colin asks.

“Duh,” Tim says.

“Why didn’t I think of that!”

“Because you’re an idiot,” Damian declares just as he snatches the card from Tim’s hand. “Oh, and Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“Perhaps you should invest in some concealer before the wedding.”

Tim grumbles something under his breath and turns back to Stephanie, but before they can reengage in their PDA, Damian grabs Jon by the hand and disappears from the scene with a newly-invigorated Colin in tow.

//

_“Dick, do you think we should get pink or blue hydrangeas for the table décor?”_

_“I dunno, Babs. Pink?”_

_“I was actually thinking blue.”_

_“Blue it is, then.”_

//

They’re all crammed thigh-to-thigh in the same side of the booth at a nearby diner, which Colin claims is because Steph and Tim might join them, even as he gives Jon an obvious wink over the top of his menu.

Jon flushes an alarming shade of red. Damian ignores all of it and says, “They have fantastic pancakes here.”

When the waitress swings by, they all order pancakes. Colin and Jon sip idly at their orange juice while Damian sucks down his coffee, which is all fine and well until Colin withdraws his phone to check the status of his new OKCupid account and spits juice all over the table because of whatever it is he’s found.

“Holy shit!” he exclaims, ignoring Jon’s scandalized gasp at the too-loud curse and the eyes that follow from around the room. In fact, he’s still guffawing when he shoves his phone at Damian’s chest and demands he look.

Jon tries to sneak a peek over Damian’s shoulder, but the latter shoves the phone into his lap with a hiss and a glare aimed at Colin. “That isn’t funny.”

“Let me see!” Jon says, grabbing the phone so quickly from Damian’s general crotch area that Damian jerks his knuckles up against the bottom of the table with a loud _thunk_ and an even louder curse. There are more people looking at them now, but none of the teens can be bothered this time.

Jon’s mouth starts as a perfectly round ‘o’ but quickly transforms into a huge, disbelieving grin. “Oh, my god. His number one match is _Bruce._ ”

“Why is his age bar set so low?” Colin manages through his tears and laughter alike. “Jesus.”

“The most likely answer is that Alfred created it for him,” Damian mutters, sinking into the booth with his arms crossed, even as the waitress returns with their pancakes. When she leaves again, he explains. “Pennyworth is not the most savvy with technology…or seeing without his glasses.”

“I can’t believe this. I’m gonna date your dad.” Colin snorts, hits Bruce’s profile, starts laughing all over again.

Eventually he calms down enough to eat, but that doesn’t stop the inordinately annoying jokes he keeps making about the situation, despite the fact Damian refuses to respond. Every once in a while, he gets a snicker out of Jon, though, and that’s enough fuel for the fire to keep him going.

“I dunno,” he says, serious out of the blue. “Now that I’m really thinking about it, your dad’s pretty hot.”

Damian blanches. Jon looks at him with worry in his eyes, like he might have to perform the Heimlich on him or something.

“I’m serious!” Colin defends. He’s still scrolling on his phone, humming thoughtfully. “I wonder if I could convince him to be my plus-one.”

Jon tries valiantly to contain his laughter, but then Damian pushes his pancakes away and declares with certainty that he is no longer hungry and by that point he can’t help it anymore.

Colin spends the whole meal period speculating how he might get Bruce to go along with it, and when Jon starts chiming in, Damian gives up entirely and thwacks his head down onto the table with a groan of despair.

“Hello?” Colin says, tone formal, and _that_ gets him to lift his head again. “Mister Wayne? I had a quick que—”

In a blur of speed, Damian wraps a hand around Colin’s phone and chucks it across the room, where it clatters against a far wall and falls to the floor, unharmed. Colin looks at him smugly, stands, and flips him off. “That case cost me fifty dollars, but I got tired of you breaking my phones.”

“I always buy you a new one,” Damian grumbles, accepting his fate.

Colin sits on the opposite side of the booth this time, but Jon doesn’t move an inch. “Hello? Yes, I’m still here Mister Wayne. I was wondering if you’d be my plus-one.” There’s a long pause, and Colin just chuckles and nods at nobody. “Yes, I’m very serious… No, I don’t think you’re too old for me... Funny you should ask, because I found out we’re _very_ compatible, actually… Yeah, the dating app… Yes… Okay, you do that.”

The call ends, and Colin slams his phone down with a haughty expression on his freckled face. “He said he’ll think about it,” he declares proudly. Jon claps; Damian rolls his eyes.

Sometimes he wonders why he keeps the company he does.

//

_“You don’t think things will be weird because Kori and Dick used to date, do you, Roy?”_

_“Nah, it’ll be fine. Dick invited Wally and they used to date, too.”_

_“I’m starting to think Dickie’s got a redhead fetish.”_

_“Jay, babe, you’re dating_ us. _Two redheads.”_

_“Hm. Fair point.”_

//

The rehearsal dinner arrives weeks later, and even that’s too frightfully quick for Damian’s liking. He expects it to shift his world somehow, but nothing’s changed; he’s still buried in schoolwork, Colin’s still trying to hit on his dad, and Jon’s still irritatingly handsome in a tuxedo. Sometimes he thinks being a teenager must be harder for him than it is for anyone else.

When Harvey Dent walks into the spacious ballroom and hooks an arm around Bruce’s shoulders to kiss him, though, Colin goes manic and things get exponentially worse.

For the most part, Damian manages to ignore him as he helps set up everything. He’s too busy looking at Dick, dressed to the nines like the rest of them, looking so happy he might burst at any moment. He and Barbara are at the designated couple’s table in the front, whispering what must have been sweet-nothings into each other’s ears, because they’re both pink in the face and giggling constantly. Though the display usually grosses him out, today it’s admittedly charming.

He’s about to approach with his congratulations, but Colin gets a death grip on his wrist and demands his attention that way. His other hand is brushed with skin as well, which turns out to be Jon, standing there looking at Colin sympathetically over Damian’s shoulder. There’s no way he doesn’t realize their hands are touching, but Damian’s got bigger fish to fry than his scarily-unbalanced hormones right now.

“Colin,” he says sternly, “what on earth is wrong with you?”

“You never told me Bruce had a boyfriend!” he hisses. “You totally let me make a fool of myself.”

“You did not require my help in that endeavor,” Damian responds coolly. Jon covers his resulting giggle-snort with the hand that had been touching Damian’s, but the strange rush of disappointment he gets is short-lived, because he grabs it for real right after that and drags him toward their table.

“Well I’m _sorry_ you’ve got a hot, rich dad, Damian. You should’ve at least broken it to me that he wasn’t single.”

“If you think that was the deal-breaking obstacle here then you really are an idiot.”

Colin pouts, but that’s at least enough to stop his bitching. Not a moment too soon, either, because that’s precisely when Bruce clears his throat into the mic and dims the chatter with his presence. Time for the host speech, then.

Damian was pretty sure Dick and Barbara were the only ones actually listening, but that didn’t really bother him. Hell, he didn’t want to listen to it either, but at least he made an effort, which is more than can be said for Hal and Barry, who were making out through the whole of it just a table away.

“You would think they would show some class for a wedding,” Damian mutters.

Jason snorts and says, “Who invited Jordan, anyway?”

“He’s Barry’s plus-one,” Duke answers matter-of-factly.

“I wish _I_ had someone to make out with during all the boring speeches,” Colin says.

Roy perks up. “We’re allowed to make out during the speeches?”

“No one is making out during the speeches!” Damian snaps. Then, of course, the moment he turns around, he finds Tim and Steph wrapped in each other’s arms, doing exactly that. He isn’t sure whether he or Duke sighs the loudest, but he at least finds a smidge of relief in the fact he’s not the only one with some sense.

//

_“Bringing me in as your arm candy isn’t exactly what I meant when I said you oughta break it to him gently, Bruce.”_

_“You’re not my arm candy, Harv: You’re my partner.”_

_“Are you saying I’m not pretty enough to be arm candy?”_

_“Harvey…”_

//

When the day comes, everything is picturesque and beautiful. Barbara walks down the aisle in her sleek white gown with a geeky Nightwing pin in her hair, and she’s blushing so hard you can’t even see her freckles anymore. Dick cries. Clark cries. Hal and Barry make out through the entire host speech again.

The happy couple smashes cake in each other’s faces and laugh uproariously about it, and then the drinking and dancing begins. Hours later, when the couple’s-only song comes on, Colin finds himself exactly where he always knew he’d end up: Sitting alone on a bench as Jon nervously tugs Damian onto the dancefloor and Damian, albeit stammering unintelligibly, lets him.

Colin sighs dejectedly. He’d just made up his mind to sneak some champagne from all the abandoned cups lying around when a boy he vaguely recognizes from Damian’s hockey team sits beside him, hands folded between his thighs.

There’s a tense, awkward silence for a second, but the boy eventually strikes up the conversation that Colin feels coming from a mile away. “Hey, you’re a friend of Damian’s, right? My name is Jaime.”

“Cool,” Colin mumbles.

“Heh. Third-wheeling, eh?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Because I am, too.” The boy smiles crookedly at him and gestures toward a couple that Colin also only vaguely recognizes, dancing in the corner. Rachel and Garfield, he thinks. The girl’s got a dyed-purple undercut, so it must be.

Colin keeps his gaze trained on them for a while, but when the lightbulb in his head finally blinks on, he allows a slow grin to ease its way onto his face. “Oh, really? Well, it’s nice to meet you, Jaime. My name is Colin Wilkes…”

Smack in the middle of the floor, Damian is shuffling awkwardly with his hands on Jon’s hips. He’s been formally taught how to dance, so he’s not quite sure _why_ he’s letting his nerves embarrass him like this, but it seems inescapable. Especially since Jon’s got his arms around his shoulders and is looking at him like he’d personally laid out the stars.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come with me,” the younger boy admits.

“Well, I…didn’t want you to be out here by yourself,” Damian tries, but Jon’s eyes crinkle at the corners with the effort it takes him not to laugh.

“I wouldn’t have come out if you hadn’t followed, dummy.”

Damian huffs, red-faced. “And why not? Surely you could have danced with _Colin._ ”

“Dami…”

“What?”

Jon sighs and shakes his head, but the smile on his face is gentle and sweet. “Relax, would you? No one’s even going to notice we’re doing this because they’re all drunk, anyway.”

“Our fathers are not.”

“Yeah, well, that isn’t really a problem…” Jon says sheepishly. “My dad thinks we’ve been dating for weeks.”

Damian blinks once, twice, three times. “And why would he think that?”

“Because I sort of…told him we were?” Jon gives him a toothy grin at that, and instead of what he expects, Damian just gives a little “oh” and then puffs up with resolve. He doesn’t know what’s got him in such a way until he’s being insistently dragged over to Bruce, Harvey, Clark, and Lois, each of them with drinks in hand.

“Father,” Damian starts, dramatic as always, “I have something I must tell you.”

“What might that be?”

He takes a breath, steels himself, and then: “Jonathan and I are a couple.”

Neither boy is sure what the first reaction was going to be, but Harvey drunkenly wheezing in laughter was not among the considerations. With an apologetic smile on his boyfriend’s behalf, Bruce says, “Um, yes. I know that, Damian.”

Jon hides his smile behind his hand while Damian processes this. A moment later, he asks, “Clark told you, didn’t he?”

Bruce lifts a brow at him. “No. It was just rather…obvious.”

When Damian crosses his arms and mumbles something that might have been sinister under his breath, Jon only laughs and gets him by the hand again. “Come on,” he says, “let’s go have fun!”

The party’s in high gear when they disappear from it.

Bruce looks out across the room and surveys in silence. Steph spins Tim right past the bench where Colin and Jaime are thigh-to-thigh, kissing as insistently as the position will allow; Roy and Kori have Jason sandwiched between them and are all but having sex through their clothes, and just a couple feet away Dick and Barbara are doing much of the same—they’re all shouting over the music at each other while they talk, sloshing champagne everywhere as they go; Hal’s pouring Barry punch, and Barry’s laughing uproariously at something he’s said while Hal looks at him like he couldn’t possibly be more in love.

Bruce sighs and looks down at Harvey, who passed out seconds after the boys left and now has his head in Bruce’s lap. Idly, he pets the man’s hair while he watches the disastrous dancing for a few more minutes. To the side, leaning against the wall, is Clark, still sipping lightly at his drink and making a face after every attempt.

“Clark,” Bruce starts after a long stretch without chatter, “where is Lois?”

“She’s following a lead.”

“Seriously? At a wedding?”

Clark smirks over the rim of his glass and says, with a renewed vibe of smart-assery, “Yes. There was a friendly tip that our sons were getting obnoxiously gropy in the courtyard, so she has gone to put a stop to that.” Bruce only sighs, so Clark adds, “Ah, teenagers,” in a wistful, nostalgic voice.

“I remember when Babs and Dick were teenagers,” Bruce comments, swiping a single tear away with one finger.

“Are you…are you crying?” Clark asks with genuine shock in his voice. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Shut up, Clark.”

//

_“Mom, we weren’t doing anything like that!”_

_“Right, and that’s not a hickey on your neck.”_

_“Damian! I told you_ below _the collar!”_

_“Tt…”_

//

It takes quite a lot of gathering to get the entire train of Barbara’s dress into the back seat with her. Once that’s finished, Bruce leans into the car a little and gives her and Dick a private, genuine smile. “The suite is booked for the entire week. Have fun, you two.”

“Thanks, B,” Dick says, reaching across Barbara’s lap to shake Bruce’s hand between both of his own. Barbara kisses him on the cheek when he straightens, and Bruce tries not to shed a second tear. He has a reputation to maintain, after all, and Alfred is standing right beside him with his hand on the door.

“All right, Al,” he says as he stands and takes a liberal step backward, “whisk them away or whatever it is the honeymoon chariot is supposed to do.”

“Perhaps one day you’ll know, Master Wayne,” Alfred jokes.

On his other side, swaying a little, Harvey makes a long “aww” sound.

In the send-off crowd, Damian and Jon stand hand-in-hand, and they’re so absorbed in the emotional display that they don’t even notice Colin creeping up behind them until his arms wind around their shoulders, squeezing them into a tight hug. “You guys,” he whispers, “you’ll never guess who I just met.”

“Shh,” Damian demands, “they’re taking off.”

They all face the car again to watch the door close, obscuring the bride in all her merry luxury. Alfred climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, and Damian dares to think that he does an effective job of dramatically whisking the car away into the night, after all.

When he looks back, Jon is crying and Colin is gone, so, with a quick peek around to make sure no one is looking directly at them, he sneaks an arm around the boy’s waist and kisses him on the jaw. “You are awfully sentimental,” he comments.

“I can’t help it,” Jon says with an uncontrollable grin rising on his face, even past the tears, “I love weddings.”


End file.
